"Commandment VII"
You shall not commit adultery.
You shall marry and bear many children,
you shall obey thy husband in all things,
keep his hearth and home comfortable,
tend his flocks, gather his eggs,
birth his calves even in winter’s direst clime,
wash his sperm stained knickers.
As she sorts Monday’s laundry,
she runs discoveries through her mind
like a silent film about to implode
You shall ignore his transgressions,
you shall not question his travels,
why he stays from home for days
but brings back no game, harvest,
mysterious papers signed in invisible ink,
fish on a bright green line.
his secretions,
the smell of boys on his breath,
credit charges for trinkets a girl would toss
and she remembers her oath,
the promise she made that bright Saturday
beneath an arbor in the garden
As she irons Tuesday,
bakes cakes and pies Wednesday,
washes windows and floors Thursday
she considers vows
and the commandments she’d learned
before she could understand
and picks up the phone Friday
to dial back her life…
© 2006 Gary Blankenship
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